


To Find Myself Through You

by Vixvox



Category: World of Warcraft
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-02
Packaged: 2021-03-07 22:15:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,593
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26774995
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vixvox/pseuds/Vixvox
Summary: The Ranger-General of Quel'Thalas never wanted to be distracted from her duties to Quel'Thalas.A medic from New York City never thought he would find love in his uncaring home.WHen these two worlds cross, meeting one another forces them to question the values that they hold dear in this non-canon Romance fanfiction.
Kudos: 2





	1. Meeting

Sylvanas Windrunner bowed her head forward and shut her eyes. It was easier to do that than to acknowledge the pain she felt in her heart.

As the ranger trainees gathered for morning exercises, Sylvanas overheard conversations from the newer recruits. 

One woman talked about a gift her husband brought her. Another gossiped about her child and how far along he was in his studies. Still, another was whispering about their feelings towards a magister and their hope to find a favorable response to an invitation to one of the soirees held in the court of the sun in Silvermoon.

Compared to them, Sylvanas thought, I must seem so dull.

She shook off the comment and lifted her chin. It wouldn’t do to give in to her feelings. Her duty was to her people. Her first and last love had to be Quel’Thalas, which left little room for anything else. It may have been a lonely life, but it was a life she chose with vigor and spirit.

The second war wasn’t but so long ago and there were still orcs and other foul beasts roaming through the woods. The rangers had to remain vigilant and the Ranger-General had to remain focused at all times.

She simply couldn’t afford to do anything, unless she wanted to risk her people.

It wasn’t a life she’d demand of any other, but it’s one she took to with pride.

“Everyone!” Sylvanas said. “Enough gossip! Get to your places and ready your bows! We train until I’m satisfied.”

The rangers saluted her and hopped in place. But Sylvanas couldn’t help but notice the dark glowering glance from some of the younger and more rebellious women. She wondered if they could see into her heart and see that tucked beneath her duty was jealousy.

~~~

It was the first time that Johnathan thought of paradise and frowned.

Every step he took through the vibrantly colored forest was a treat. From the soft grass crunching beneath his steps to the smell of flowers brushing across his senses. From the babbling of swiftly running brooks and streams to the small chirping of birds nesting among the branches of healthy-looking trees. Even the small growls of orange cats as they watched him pass felt welcoming, warm, and sweet.

But one thought tumbled over and over again in Johnathan’s mind:

How do I get home?

He lost track of the time since he woke up on a sandy beach some distance away. He remembered the initial panic as he discovered he was no longer in his apartment in New York. Instead of the sound of a metro car rolling past his window, he could only hear the click-clacking of crabs picking at his backpack. Instead of the thumping from the couple up the stairs, he could only hear the swish and swirl of the tide as it reached for his boot-covered feet.

He brushed himself off and searched his packs, but found no clue to where he was or how he got there. He had lost his electronics and his work folders, so he couldn’t even call anyone…that is if he could even find a signal out there. He felt…something a far distance beyond lost.

How do I get home?

He passed by a few settlements in his travels. The temptation was there to stop and ask for directions. But each time he came closer, he noticed windows being shut. Whenever he saw the faces of graceful elves, they quickly turned away from the stranger in their midst.

It left him doubtful that anyone would help him. Especially since he couldn’t see how he could reach out to anyone.

~~~

Thwip Thwip

Sylvanas watched as her ranger trainees fired volleys of arrows down the range. Each of the elves were skilled shots and landed their marks near dead center. The spread was acceptably small with a few of the more talented trainees even managing to split their arrows. She could see the pride swelling from those elves the most and resisted the urge to squash down on the joy they felt.

Unlike many ranger-generals before her, she didn’t see a reason to negate the achievements of these skilled men and women. They worked hard to earn direct tutelage beneath her and each had the potential to succeed her if she ever died.

She covered her heart with a palm as those pains from earlier surged back to the forefront of her mind. Thoughts of husbands, children, and kisses beneath the boughs threatened to set aside her judgments of this rising group of rangers. She pursed her lips tight and bit down on her lip hoping for anything to distract her from her thoughts.

“Ranger-General!” said a voice from down the range.

Sylvanas choked back her gratitude to the elf.

“Yes, Kalilenn?” Sylvanas said.

The woman was one of the fresher recruits. A hunter by trade with skin the color of tree bark but eyes that glowed with intelligence. Sylvanas only knew her name by reputation as many of the other lieutenants spoke of her pleasant attitude and adherence to Quel’Thalas.

Kalilenn bowed and pointed to the southeast.

“I just came from Fairbreeze Village and the farmers told me about a stranger walking through the woods," Kalilenn said.

Sylvanas motioned for the trainees to continue their practice. She turned her full attention to the recruit and raised a gloved hand to brush her cheek. She hummed and thought about the report as a thought came to mind.

“It must not be an orc. I doubt the villagers would react so calmly about that.” Sylvanas said.

Kalilenn nodded. “I think so too. It sounds like it’s a human, but he isn’t wearing Alliance colors and he travels alone.”

“Could it be a spy?” Sylvanas wondered aloud. “You can never tell with humans not wearing the Alliance’s colors.”

Kalilenn said, “What are your orders?”

Sylvanas looked up and pointed to one of the elves. “Denari! You are in charge. See that he trainees finish their drills. Then lead the company to Fairbreeze. Arrange a watch patrol and wait until I find you. Is that understood?”

The tall blonde saluted Sylvanas and offered a nod before notching another arrow. Sylvanas then turned to Kalilenn.

“As for you, go and find a Silvermoon guard. Find out if Eversong was expecting any visitors today. If not, tell them what you’ve learned and what we’re doing.”

Sylvanas turned and dashed off into the wilds of the Eversong Woods. Denari’s voice rang out from far behind her as she leaped into the treelines. Her feet tapped on thick sturdy branches as she leaped from tree to tree in search of this strange man.

If you are a threat, Sylvanas thought, then you won’t be for much longer.

~~~

Johnathan’s limbs were heavy like leaden weights. He’d been walking for hours with no success in figuring out where he was or where he was going. The few times he saw people along the road, they quickly ducked into nearby homes and slammed their doors and windows shut.

He had his doubts that he could even speak with them since they didn’t look like any people he’d ever seen back home. They were tall with long ears that angled well past the shape of their heads. Their hair was either impossibly long or spiked up in ways that would take him gel and hours of waiting to accomplish. He could have sworn that their eyes glowed with a bright golden light, but that may have been the exhaustion talking.

He had just reached another stream when he finally decided to take a break. He searched for a dry looking place to sit. He spotted a long wide gray stone that overlooked the widest part of the flowing stream. A single butterfly with wings of red and blue rested upon the very tip of the stone as if coaxing Johnathan to come closer.

Johnathan hummed and smiled. “You’re about the friendliest thing I’ve seen yet.”

He walked off the beaten path and strode over moist dew-dropped patches of grass. His boots squelched lightly into a patch of wet soil as he moved. The man adjusted the tunic he wore when he reached the long flat stone. The butterfly flew away as if offering the seat to him.

Johnathan watched the butterfly as he took the seat for himself.

“Now if only those villagers were so accomodating. Maybe then I’d figure out how to get home.” He said.

Johnathan frowned at the thought. 

It wasn’t fair for him to blame the people he passed. After all, he looked nothing like them, so of course, they’d want nothing to do with him. He wondered if he’d even have been able to communicate with them in the first place. He even considered how it must have looked to see a strange man just wandering around through their verdant untouched forest.

“Wait a second…” Johnathan considered, “Maybe they think I’m here to cause problems.”

It made so much sense to him. From the strange wildlife he’d passed through his wanderings to the elfin beauty of the people he’d seen, it was as clear as day that he wasn’t back on Earth anymore. He didn’t know how he got there, but that didn’t matter in the short term.

If he could but reach out and have someone understand that he wasn’t a part of this world, then they’d surely lend him a hand to getting on his way. He still had to worry about whether or not he could be understood, but was it so impossible a task?

He leaped up to his feet and turned back towards the path. The village was only a short distance away and he was certain that the residents weren’t very far off. While they were suspicious of him, they didn’t seem aggressive or threatening.

He took a single step when he heard the taut whine of a bowstring’s pull.

“Halt right there, human.” Said a voice.

~~~

It didn’t take long for Sylvanas to pick up the stranger’s trail. He walked through the woods with the heavy steps of a brute and the wandering stride of someone who was very confused. While that ruled out the visitor is a part of some military unit, it didn’t rule out the possibility that she was tracking down a spy. It made sense to the woman that the Horde would impress a fool into service who could wander in and out without raising too much of a fuss.

While Ranger Lord Lorthemar would have suggested guiding the traveler to the edge of Quel’Thalas, Sylvanas wasn’t quite so ready to offer goodwill.

She danced across the trees with her bow tight in hand. Her footsteps brushed across branches while barely disrupting their early afternoon breezy wave. Birds didn’t even notice her passing as she was too swift and too quiet to draw more than a chirp from even the most curious of avians.

She spotted the human when she finally reached the swift-flowing stream closest to Fairbreeze.

The Ranger-General dropped from the trees and narrowed her eyes. She dove into a bush and drew an arrow from her quiver. She slowed her breathing and listened to the voice carried to her by the west blowing breeze.

“…think I’m here to cause problems,” said the man.

Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and notched the arrow.

She studied the man’s clothes. He didn’t wear any of the colors of the human kingdoms far to the south. He didn’t wear any of the badges that would mark him as a member of Stormwind’s military. He was simply a man in a tunic and breeches, who somehow found his way this close to Silvermoon’s gates.

How suspicious.

The man rose and spun to walk back along the path. Sylvanas’ mind snapped back to the present. She slipped out from behind the bushes and stood to her full height. She was thirty paces away from the man, much too far for him to reach her even on a full sprint, but close enough that she could see if he was readying a spell.

“Halt right there, human!” Sylvanas barked.

The man blinked and stood stock-still. He raised his chin until his eyes met hers.

Sylvanas’ lips parted, but no words came out.

There was something about the man that seemed to draw her in. His eyes were a rich hazel color that reminded her of autumn fields from the lands beyond the Sunwell’s influence. That precious color of wheat hidden between tall dark-colored stalks of grass that she had only seen from afar in her countless years of life.

Her eyes wandered across his face. She noted how his skin resembled darker creams that often came with a sweet drink intended for children or the innocently decadent. His chin had a firm hardness to his that matched the smooth lips that smiled at her.

~~~  
Johnathan was awestruck by the woman.

He could tell how tall she was, even from the distance between them. Between her height, the command in her voice, and the dangerous weapon in hand, she presented a fearsome sight.

But he didn’t fear her. If anything, he had recognized the power of the woman before him. She was a figure to be respected.

Even as the arrow’s point rose towards his chest, he couldn’t help but feel captivated by this strange woman. Her clothes and armor were different from the villagers from before, being both more revealing while still shining of a metal he’d never seen before.

He smiled at her, hoping that it would signal that he was a friend and would do her no harm.

~~~  
She caught herself biting her lower lip when she noticed that smile. It brought back those pains from earlier that day and replaced it with a strange sensation she couldn’t quite place. She wanted to know more about this man and was half-tempted on lowering her bow so they could talk.

No, she thought as she forced her eyes away, you owe your duty to your people. Don’t let this man distract you.

She felt relieved when his eyes were not directly gazing into her own. But that relief was washed away when she noticed the Springpaw matron creeping through the tall grass, clearly seeing the human as a tasty unknowing snack.

The matron lunged for the kill. 

Sylvanas adjusted her aim and launched the arrow.

~~~  
Johnathan gasped. He crossed his arms over his chest and grit his teeth as hard as he could. His eyes slammed shut as he counted down the seconds to his death. 

A snarl and a heavy thud snapped him out of his distraction. He peeked through half-lidded eyes and noticed a large orange cat only inches away from his side. An arrow was stuck lodged inside the cat’s side.

Johnathan lowered his arms and looked from the cat to the woman.

“You saved me,” Johnathan said. “Thank you.”

The woman reached over her shoulder for another arrow.

“No, wait! I’m a friend. You spoke to me earlier, so let’s talk now.”

Johnathan took a few steps.

“Stand back, Human”, the woman said with less force and fire behind her voice.

“My name is Johnathan.” He said. “I…apparently come from another world. I just want to know your name.”

Johnathan paused in mid-step. 

He wanted to ask her where he was and how to get home. The woman’s name should have been the last thing on his mind.

He reflected on what he said. A single thought forced itself to the forefront of his mind, just as his eyes lowered to the woman’s lips. He felt his cheeks burn as he looked away.

Get a hold of yourself, Johnathan, he thought, she’s from this world…you can’t want her like this.

Johnathan didn’t know how convincing his thoughts were.

“Sylvanas,” said the woman.

“I’m sorry?” he said.

“My name. My name is Sylvanas Windrunner. Ranger-General of Quel’Thalas.”

“Hello Sylvanas, It’s a pleasure to…”

Sylvanas raised a palm.

“Come, I’ll lead you to Silvermoon. We can figure out what to do with you, there.”


	2. Guardian

Sylvanas caught herself glancing at Johnathan as they walked. The human should have been beneath her notice. He should have just been a stranger who found his way to Quel’Thalas.

But as that pain pounded in her heart, she caught herself asking “Why?”

Why am I so hesitant to speak to him?

Why am I insisting on being out of his reach?

Why am I struggling next to him?

She clicked her tongue as she pondered those questions. She considered the strange circumstance that brought them together. He a stranger who scared Fairwind’s villagers and her, the Ranger-General who chose to hunt him down. While she was no longer convinced that he was a threat, she couldn’t bear the thought of letting him out of her sight.

Her cheeks felt warm as she realized that fact.

“Sylvanas,” Johnathan said, “Are you alright?”

Sylvanas shook her head then turned towards him. Those warm amber pools were once more gazing into her own. She felt her heart skip a beat and cleared her throat to correct it.

“I am quite fine. Quite fine indeed…” Sylvanas said.

She walked a few more steps.

“Why? Is something on your mind?”

Johnathan hummed and glanced towards her.

“I was just looking at you and, your skin looks…”  
“I had a late evening,” Sylvanas said.

Johnathan smiled. “Good, because I was worried that you were sick…I don’t know what kind of medicine you have around here but, I’d have offered to help.”

Sylvanas looked at him. “You’re a healer?”

Johnathan shrugged. “In my world, I am.”

Sylvanas hummed. “You keep saying, “Your world. What do you mean?”

Johnathan’s feet stopped. Sylvanas turned towards him. The pair gazed into each other’s eyes and Sylvanas noticed something strange in the man’s expression.

His lips were clamped shut where they have relaxed into a thin line just moments ago. His brow looked knitted and furrowed as if some dark thought haunted him. His eyes had lowered to stare at her shoes…or legs.

“What’s wrong?” Sylvanas asked.

Johnathan didn’t answer immediately. He seemed focused entirely on the question

“Something just came to mind. And I’m not sure how to feel about it.”

Sylvanas’ lips parted. She made a sound rather than say the obvious question that came to mind. She was no stranger to contemplation and didn’t quite feel right about intruding in the man’s private thoughts.

If you wanted to tell me, Sylvanas thought, then you would have told me.

Johnathan seemed engrossed in his private thoughts. His face was scrunched up in a huffy expression. The stern curl of his lips and the knitting of his brow brought a smile to Sylvanas’ lips. When he turned his head just so, she could see how the sunlight reflected off of his hazel pools. She noticed how light they looked adding necessary mirth to the hard expression he wore.

Then her eyes wandered lower to the man’s lips. Her heartbeat was harder than it had all afternoon. She bit her lip, placed a palm over her heart, then forced herself to look away.

“Johnathan,” Sylvanas said, “We should continue on our way. Silvermoon isn’t far and we can speak more once we arrive.”

Johnathan snapped out of his reverie. 

Sylvanas refused to look at him. She worried that he would be able to read the emotions in her face and she didn’t know how to handle it if he misread her intentions and feelings.

“I’m sorry,” Johnathan said, “something was on my mind and I tend to stand still when I’m puzzling through something.”

Sylvanas lowered her eyes. She could just make out his gestures at the edge of her vision. He looked bashful, nervous, and sincere. She read a lot in his expression and unspoken language, including something that she dreaded to realize; interest in her.

But seeing this didn’t stop Sylvanas.

“What was on your mind?” She said.

He laughed nervously and clapped his hands together. A warm rich color rose to his cheeks as he darted his eyes down the paths they traveled. 

“I’m not sure I should say,” Johnathan said.

He walked down the road. Sylvanas caught up and kept pace.

“Come now, Johnathan.” Sylvanas said with a smile teasing across her lips, “You can’t not say it now.”

Johnathan’s voice was certain, strong, and smooth when he said, “I was thinking about staying here…with you.”

Sylvanas’ ears burned at the sound. 

It took her a moment to hear what he had said and a moment longer to understand what he could have meant. He was a stranger to Quel’Thalas or the Eversong Woods. Yet, he wanted to be here, NOT just because of the beauty of her home. But because of her. 

Her heart pumped fast and hard. A jolt of electricity raced up and down her spine. Her mouth felt dry all of a sudden as all the responses she could have given were lost, except one.

“What did you say?” She said.

Johnathan hopped ahead and turned around. He walked backward so he could keep his eyes fixed on her own. There was an intensity there that brought back that thumping pang in Sylvanas’ heart. There was something in his gestures that made her stomach feel fluttery as if she’d swallowed a dozen butterflies.

“I should confess,” he said “I’m not from around here…and I don’t mean just Quel’Thalas. I come from someplace far away and have traveled all morning long thinking about how I could get back home.”

Sylvanas lifted her brow. She rested a palm on her hip and listened.

“It’s been hard to not think about you since we met.” He said.

“It’s not like we’ve been apart since then either.” Sylvanas mused. “Not to mention that I had you at arrow point. Why wouldn’t you…” Sylvanas said.

“No no, even then I knew you wouldn’t have hurt me. You’re this land’s defender right?”

Sylvanas resisted a nod. “I am a Ranger-General of Quel’Thalas. You must be thinking about how I saved you from the Springpaw matron. Don’t mistake that for more than it is.”

Oh no, Sylvanas thought, He has feelings for me? Oh no oh no oh no.

“Well yes, but also no," Johnathan said much to Sylvanas’ confusion. “Back home, I was just another man. I didn’t feel like I truly belonged anywhere. But then I find you, see you looking at me as we walked. And Goodness knows I can’t stop looking at you and…”

Sylvanas grit her teeth. 

While she couldn’t accept that he came from another world, he might have somehow missed out on the events of the day. Perhaps he was the victim of a basilisk and had just somehow been freed. Whatever caused this strange man to come into her life, didn’t stop her heart from wanting to accept his feelings.

It was true that he held a certain appeal that she couldn’t deny. He was handsome, sincere, and innocent in a way that suggested he wasn’t marked by the wars of years past. Johnathan had something sweet about him that was easy to desire. He had a beauty that would look wonderful in finer clothes from Silvermoon’s tailors and arms that she could easily see wrapped around her waist or shoulders. She could have pushed away these thoughts, had he kept his mouth shut about having mutual desires and interest.

But to fall for such a man. To accept the obvious romantic subtext of his words. That would distract her from her all-too-important duties to Quel’Thalas.

She couldn’t allow it.

“Enough!” She called out.

Johnathan stumbled but held his ground. They stopped their march together.

“Enough.” She repeated in a more neutral tone.

She’d read stories and heard tell of elves falling in love with humans. Those unions often ended happily, even with the noticeably longer lifespans that elves enjoyed. Those stories, Sylvanas thought, were always comforting and cozy reads. But to live one of those tales herself?

Preposterous.

“Ever since we’ve met, you’ve acted strangely. You say you’re from another world, which is insane. Do you even know where you were born? Which of the human kingdoms your father hailed from?” Sylvanas said.

Johnathan said nothing.

“I’m sorry that you misread my intentions. I am happy you’re safe. But I am a Ranger-General, not some love-starved woman.”

“But Sylvanas….” He said.

She held up a hand. “Ranger-General if you please. You’re far too familiar. When we return to Silvermoon, I’ll arrange transport to Lordaeron. I’m certain someone there can help you.”

Staring into Johnathan’s face was the hardest thing she’d ever done. If she looked away for a moment, then it would weaken the strength of her words and her resolve. She had to assure herself and him that she meant what she said. She needed him to understand that there was nothing between them and no chance of creating something between them.

Johnathan must have understood. He sighed and slumped with a look of defeat that hurt to see. He turned away from her and looked towards the path.

“Forgive me then, Ranger-General. I meant no offense.” He said.

He walked without bothering to wait for her. His slow shuffling steps wounded Sylvanas’ heart. It felt like a knife had been slipped into her breast and twisted by some cruel hand.

As Sylvanas followed Johnathan, she realized that the hand was her own.

~~~  
Beyond the tapping of their footsteps on the cobblestone roads of Quel’Thalas, the rest of the trip was in silence.

Johnathan was sincere in what he told Sylvanas earlier down the path, which made her rejection hurt all the more. He glanced at her, hoping to see some sign that she was reconsidering or at least that her words were somehow false. But she never so much as looked into his eyes or face.

He lowered his eyes to the road ahead and held a hand up to cover his heart. His fingers closed tight around his tunic as if bundling himself up from the cool that built up between him and his savior.

I’m sorry, he thought, I didn’t mean to offend. I thought there was something between us and that somehow you had drawn me to your side.

A part of him thought of himself as a fool. That voice was the rational side of his mind that wanted nothing to do with Quel’Thalas, with elves, or even with this one woman. This side of himself nudged and urged him to just accept the woman’s offer to return to Lordaeron and find someone that could send him home.

But Johnathan didn’t want to listen to that voice. He never did, even back home. That voice cost him the love of a woman because he chose safe and sure over chance and happiness…and lost.

He sighed.

“We’re almost there," Sylvanas said. “If you look up the road, you should see one of the guard spires of Silvermoon City.”

Johnathan raised his chin. The bright reds and golds of the city were blinding to him. He resisted the urge to cover his eyes from the glowing beacon that was this grand city. If the Eversong Woods were the greatest forest he’d ever walked through, then this city was practically heaven encased in divine stone.

“Impressive, isn’t it?” Sylvanas said.

“It…it is. This is where your people live?” Johnathan said.

Sylvanas shook her head. “Only some. There are villages, like the one that I found you besides, and my family holds lands far to the south of us. While all of the elves of Quel’Thalas have gorgeous homes like this, Silvermoon City is the shining beacon of our world. Untouched by trolls. Untarnished by the Horde…It is home.”

Johnathan blinked at Sylvanas. This was the first time she mentioned trolls or a Horde. He wanted to ask but thought it best to keep those questions to himself.

“You said we’ll arrange transport from there?” he said.

Sylvanas nodded. “Yes, there are chariots drawn by the magic that could take you to the edge of Lordaeron. Then scouts could guide you to one of the human patrols and from there…it’s not a very long walk.”

Sylvanas frowned.

“You’ll be happy to be back—”

Sylvanas stood up straight and turned towards the south. Her bow was in her hands in an instant as if it was there the entire time. Johnathan saw a narrow-eyed focus in her eyes from what little he could see. She looked like a coiled serpent ready to strike.

“What’s wrong?” Johnathan said.

“Continue down the road. I’ll catch up.” Sylvanas said.

Johnathan blinked. “Whats’ going on?”

“I am not asking. Go.”

Sylvanas didn’t bother waiting. She ran off the road towards the thicker part of the Eversong Woods. Johnathan could only follow her for seconds before she leaped into the trees and vanished with only the sprinkling of leaves marking her passage.

Johnathan considered obeying Sylvanas’ request. She knew the Eversong Woods better than he possibly could. If she had heard some danger, then it made sense for her to run off and handle it.

He took a single step before something occurred to him.

If she heard it and I can’t, then it can’t be that far away. If she wants me to run away, then it might be more than she can handle.

The realization left Johnathan with only one choice to make. He rolled his sleeves and searched for a heavy-looking tree branch and a palm-full of stones. They were hardly useful weapons to be sure, but they were better than running in unarmed.

So armed, he looked towards the south.

“If you think I’m not going to return the favor…” Johnathan said as he rushed after her, “Then you have another thing coming.”

Johnathan raced along smoothly rolling hills. As he entered the wooded parts of the nearby terrain, his footsteps squelched down into mud from recent rainfall and dew. Animals raced away from his fast approach while the sounds of the forest faded into a pregnant pause. 

Tree branches whipped past his arms and face. Leaves caressed his skin as he rushed forth as if urging him to go back and run away. But Johnathan ignored the uncertainty and fear that threatened his resolve.

“I’m coming, Sylvanas.” Johnathan said, “I’m coming.”

He heard leaves rustling a short distance to the east, just past a thick wall of leaves and branches. Johnathan wasted no time in bursting through. His body crashed through the wall of vegetation which left him exposed in a small open grove.

He rubbed leaves off his face.

Thwip

Johnathan looked towards the sound and spotted Sylvanas leaping from stone to stone. Her bow was drawn and launching arrows into the bodies of creatures that were, at first, masked and cloaked in shadows.

Johnathan counted seven different shapes that moved with strange gangly steps. Some hunched down like knuckle-dragging primates, while others shuffled on two feet towards the dancing leaping elf. Johnathan watched and gripped his branch tighter until one of the creatures moved towards the light in the center of the grove.

His eyes went wide open as he saw the creatures for what they were.

“Z-zombies?!”

The nearest creature heard Johnathan and turned its head towards him. The monster’s flesh was gray and wilted, looking more like a very old head of lettuce with dry wisps of hair grown crudely from its surface. Two glowing yellow eyes stared at Johnathan through the gloom just above a large wide mouth that drooled a green globule of slime and spit. It pointed a finger towards Johnathan and made a howl that drew half the eyes upon him, including Sylvanas’.

“I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU TO RUN!” The Ranger-General shouted.

Johnathan shouted back, as the zombie shuffled towards him.

“YOU SAVED MY LIFE. LET ME SAVE YOURS!”

“YOU ARE A FOOL!”

Johnathan nodded fully in agreement as he breathed in and raised the hefty branch like a baseball bat.

“I…hope I didn’t just screw up," Johnathan said. “But I have to try.”

He breathed in and exhaled. His fingers loosened and tightened around the branch. His legs parted and knees bent for a stronger stance. It was a batter’s stance, but one that served him well during University. One he prayed would serve him well here.

The creature drew closer. Arrows fly into the creature’s back, but the monster seemed unphased and more intent on claiming its new meal.

“I’m not running away, monster!” Johnathan said…even if he didn’t quite feel so bold.

The creature was only three paces away. Just barely out of reach. Johnathan still had a moment to turn tail and run, but his legs remained in place. Arrows flew as Sylvanas shouted for him to get away, but he refused to budge.

The creature raised its rotted fingers to strike. Johnathan swung the stick as hard as he could.

“I won’t leave her. I won’t. I won’t. I won’t!”

His hands felt hotter than ever before. His body felt strong and warm. A light shined bright like a beacon or flare. He only realized that the light emanated from his weapon as the now glowing branch smashed into the zombie’s head, making it shatter and crumple like glass.

The force of his swing sent Johnathan staggering forward as arrows flew around him to launch at other undead that neared him. But rather than spin into the waiting arms of a zombie, he rolled into his swing and came around with another that cracked a zombie’s ribs making him ignite like a holy candle.

As arrows flew and pierced into the undead, Johnathan and Sylvanas became a team. Zombies fell to glowing sticks and precise arrows. It was a deadly orchestra of thwips and crunches interposed with the wet warbling sounds of monsters.

The battle couldn’t have lasted more than a minute. But it felt like hours to Johnathan. Johnathan returned to the present in the center of the grove. Sunlight beamed down upon him bathing him in warmth. All around him were the bodies of zombies, ghouls, and other monsters that he’d never thought existed outside of movies. Exhaustion took him as he leaned bodily against the nearest tree.

He had never known combat like that before, nor what it meant to wield magic as he had. He stared at the branch expecting it to still be glowing only to find an ordinary length of wood that was covered in wet splotches of sickly green.

“I can’t believe that I did that," Johnathan said.

“Neither can I.," Sylvanas said.

Johnathan turned towards Sylvanas.

The Ranger-General had placed the bow over her shoulder and rested a hand upon her hip. The other arm reached up to tap her chin as if she were reconsidering an opinion about the human before her.

Johnathan wanted to stand up and present a better face. But he felt too drained to even try.

“How did you do that, Johnathan?” She asked.

He shrugged. “I don’t know. I just knew that I wanted to help you. I felt something inside that demanded I swallow my fear and protect you. I couldn’t do that with just a stick so whatever that light magic was, it just happened.”

She hummed.

“Curious…a natural affinity with the Light. Strong enough to be willed into being just to…” she blushed “…to protect me? You are a peculiar man.”

Johnathan blinked. “Thanks?”

Sylvanas motioned with a hand.

“Please don’t take offense. I realize I misjudged you.”

“Then what do you see now?” he asked.

She turned her attention towards the north. Her eyes searched the horizon for Silvermoon City, perhaps.

“Something is wrong. Undead should never have made it this deep into our lands.” She looked at him. “I can’t in good faith send you to Lordaeron until we know more. Come, you’re under my protection. At least until we speak with our king.”


	3. Affection

Two Hours Later

Sylvanas Windrunner was no stranger to the royal throne room. As the Ranger-General of Quel’Thalas, she spent much of her time telling High King Anasterian Sunstrider about the goings-on and events across their people’s land.

She respected her king, as his rule saw Quel’Thalas prosper through several conflicts that threatened their people. IT was his dedication to the continued survival of the High Elves that inspired Sylvanas’ devotion and fealty. It was also that respect that drew her to pull Johnathan to one of the king’s receiving rooms to speak with Johnathan before she met with the High King.

The pair were alone in the room, save for servants who flitted about offering drinks and treats to keep the pair at ease while the High King prepared himself to receive them. There were a dozen cushioned seats scattered about the room, with small pots of peacebloom pipes between each pair. The walls were covered in paintings depicting the great heroes of their illustrious long-lived Kingdom.

Johnathan was of course awestruck and spent most of his time admiring this piece of art or that magical conjuration. Sylvanas allowed herself a smile as she watched Johnathan’s sincere wonder at the room. But the gravity of the upcoming meeting snapper her back to the present.

“Johnathan,” Sylvanas said, “When we speak with the High King, there are certain rules you should follow.”

The human turned towards her. 

“I imagine I should bow low, let you do the talking, and speak when spoken to?” Johnathan said.

His eyes met hers and had a fire and devotion to them that she hadn’t seen when they first met. While he was an outsider and innocent, she couldn’t help but feel that there was something more beneath the surface. It was like an endless well that drew her in towards his deep-set pools.

She shook off the spell his eyes cast.

“Yes, but more importantly, the High King is a busy man. Please keep any explanations brief. If you’re as unfamiliar with the state of Azeroth as you say…”

He smiled. “I know…I’m not going to say anything more than what is needed. I doubt he’ll even want to speak with me since you’re the one with rank.”

She smiled a little wider. “I do not know about that. You showed a gift out there I did not expect.”

He motioned to his hands. “You mean that Light glowy thing I did?”

She giggled. “Please don’t call it that. It is called ‘The Light’ and I’ve never seen one channel with an ordinary stick. Only the most powerful Paladins can wield it so freely, and often only with weapons consecrated towards the purpose. Are you certain you don’t come from Stormwind or Lordaeron.”

Johnathan smiled bashfully and shrugged.

“Unless those are other names for New York, no.”

Sylvanas clicked her tongue at him. She motioned to the nearest seat and took the one closest to it for herself.

“Sit with me. You keep mentioning this, New York, what is that kingdom like?”

Sylvanas watched Johnathan. She half-expected the man to frown at her and refuse her request. Before he came to her defense against The Scourge, she had been terse with him. She wanted to build up a wall between them to protect herself from distraction. But he had to go and force the issue.

She wondered if he even knew how much will and faith it took to wield the light as he did. Especially since it seemed to have come from his desire to stand by her side.

It was flatter, Sylvanas had to admit.

Johnathan nodded and took up the offered seat.

Sylvanas offered her hand. Johnathan took it and squeezed. She was surprised by how warm and soft it felt, almost as if his inner Light radiated against…or because of the touch of their skin.

“I don’t think you would want to hear about New York," Johnathan said. “It’s not a kingdom like Quel’Thalas. It’s not as nice as Silvermoon City.”

“Try me," Sylvanas said.

Johnathan nodded. “Very well. The buildings are far taller than Silvermoon’s tallest spires. But everything is gray and dull. Imagine buildings made of…windows, with glass everywhere. You have to dig to find any color, and those are usually painted on the sides of buildings or in between alleys.”

“And the people?” Sylvanas said.

“Well…”

Johnathan spoke with Sylvanas about her home. He talked about a world that felt like a land fit for commoners. Everyone worked a day in and day out paying daily taxes and fees to survive. While she found fascination with the mentions of instant communication across any distance and great vehicles that soared across the sky, it all felt so…lonely.

One recurring feature of Johnathan’s tales was how rarely strangers seemed to help one another. It seemed as if you could lie broken in the streets for days without notice if you didn’t know someone like family or friend. 

Despite her feelings of this horrible story, Sylvanas found herself lost within his words. At least until:

“…and that is why,” Johnathan said, “I think I’ve fallen for you.”

Sylvanas almost missed the gasp from one of the maids. She forced the blush down from her cheeks and whirled her attention at the woman. The elf woman shrank from Sylvanas’ glare and turned away, but not before her lips curled into a playful grin.

Great, Sylvanas thought.

“Johnathan, Sylvanas said, “We went over this. I cannot be with you. Especially now with that Scourge sighting.”

She dared a look into Johnathan’s eyes.

She half-expected to see the disappointment in his expression. A lip curled into the hint of a frown. Eye’s lidded shut and a slight slump in his stance. After all, how else would most men react to being turned down twice in the same day?

But instead of dismay, sorrow, or disappointment, Sylvanas saw something else in his eyes. Something that seemed much larger and stronger than she expected from a human so small compared to her. It was both the flickering flame drawing in moths at night and a warm blanket that coaxed lovers to sleep in naught in its embrace.

Sylvanas wanted to believe that she didn’t blush. But the pounding of her heart told her otherwise.

“I know what this land means to you,” he said, “But in the day that I’ve known you, I’ve found more desire than ever to risk. You are simply…”

KNOCK KNOCK

The knocking snapped Sylvanas out of her daydream. The scratching of chairs sounded in the room as she practically shoved her seat as far away from Johnathan as she could. The Ranger-General turned to the side and noticed that Johnathan had done the same.

When Sylvanas’ face met Johanthan’s the pair shared a small smile and chuckle, just as the door to the receiving room opened.

A high elf in rich white and gold livery entered the room. He had his nose held up high and stood ram-rod straight. His legs were locked tight which gave him an appearance that made Sylvanas think of a stick.

Sylvanas realized how accurate her comparison was from the moment the elf opened his mouth.

“Ranger-General…guest.” The servant sniffed, “The High King will see you now.”

Sylvanas rose to her feet and motioned for Johnathan to do the same.

“Come, Johnathan, it’s time.”

Johnathan rose and reached for Sylvanas’ hand. The servant sniffed as Sylvanas accepted the hand.

~~~  
Johnathan didn’t know what to expect of meeting with an actual elf High Prince. He thought that he could fake being of the genteel class by doing what he’d seen from the Royal Family back home; keeping his head lowered, standing up straight, and referring to everyone as “Your Grace” or “My Lord and Lady”. But it seemed like the High Elves of Quel’Thalas were at another level altogether.

Each of these figures looked crafted wholesale from dreams, with accouterments that seemed fit for high budget films and plays. But as he stood among these men and women, he felt completely and woefully out of place.

The High Elves were not the dainty figures that he expected, as most of them wore armor that looked far heavier than the field wear that Sylvanas kept around her lithe and agile body. The swords that dangled from their belts gleamed with deadly radiance, and their eyes all pierced into Johnathan’s whenever he made the mistake of glancing their way.

He may not have even been able to look upon High King Anasterian Sunstrider if Sylvanas wasn’t by his side.

The elves debated about the meaning of Scourge coming this deep into their lands all afternoon long. Though they sometimes spoke in Common for his benefit, it didn’t take long before the energetic debates slipped back into the flowery and beautiful language of these people. But Sylvanas made sure to translate whatever he asked about and never left his side.

They didn’t have much of a chance to speak, until the High King invited Sylvanas, Johnathan, and the other gathered guests to join him in the dining room adjacent to the throne room.

Johnathan found himself seated at the edge of one table. Sylvanas had requested to be seated by his side and the High King was kind enough to grant her request, even if Johnathan noticed more than a few glances in his direction.

As the guests feasted upon the rich foods on their plate, Johnathan felt her palm on his knee.

“I wanted to tell you something.” Sylvanas said, “The High King is restricting carriages from Quel’Thalas until a full investigation is concluded.”

Johnathan blinked. “Does that mean that I’ll be kept in the city?”

Sylvanas bobbed her head and motioned with her free hand.

“That depends…”

“On what?” Johnathan said.

“Civilians are being asked to remain indoors until the threat is examined and dealt with. But, given your obvious talent with the Light, some of the other Magisters have proposed you joining one of the medical wards.”

Johnathan frowned.

“Are you trying to send me away?” He said.

She shook her head. “Not quite. Your courage and abilities can help protect my home. I would be a fool to send you away when proper training and armor can help you defend Quel’Thalas. Sunwell willing, this Scourge threat will be easily solved, but…” she paused. “I have requested that you join the Farstriders, my unit as an auxiliary member. If you’ll accept it, then you and I will begin training in the morning.”

Johnathan blinked. He wondered if she had any doubts about how he’d answer.

“I would be happy to serve. You know how I feel…”

Sylvanas shook her head and placed a finger over her lips.

“Not here,” she said, “during the dance, meet me on the veranda.”

Johnathan gave her a nod. Both of them returned to their meals.

The man felt in high spirits, higher than it had been all day long. From being lost in a world he didn’t know, it seems he’d found a place for himself by this incredible woman’s side. His heart fluttered with the thought that she could somehow come to love him. So bright and warm was the feeling in his chest that he no longer cared that the conversations around them were still in a language he didn’t know.

~~~  
Johnathan found it easy to slip away from the party. 

Most of the guests seemed content to socialize among themselves. Sylvanas explained that they were chattering on about news of the day, the state of The Sunwell, and about how easily the Farstriders could take on the Scourge. While Sylvanas assured him that there were quite a few compliments about his courage and skill, he had his doubts.

It just felt like none of the High Elves were interested in speaking with him beyond the purely professional. The Noblesse Oblige that required acknowledging that he existed without giving him more than that cursory a glance.

It would have been intolerable, had he not been anticipating company.

Johnathan was greeted with a cool refreshing breeze when he reached the veranda. Rails of polished gold-colored metal gave the overhang a shine that stood out even against the colorful world below. If he narrowed his eyes into a squint, he could have just made out the moving shapes of gardeners and guardsmen going about their routines.

But Johnathan was too preoccupied to pay much attention to anything at all, except for his feelings about his meeting with Sylvanas.

“Ok Johnathan,” he said to himself, “whatever you do. Don’t make a fool of yourself.”

He took in a breath and held it.

“Are you that worried, my dear guest?”

Johnathan whirled around towards the familiar voice. He smiled when he saw Sylvanas step through the doorway to join him on the veranda. His eyes followed her movements, which were all small sonnets dedicated to the woman’s femininity and grace. He couldn’t deny the attraction to the woman, even with the harder metal sections of her Ranger-General’s armor.

He felt his palms and cheeks grow as every step brought her nearer to his side. When she was finally within arm’s reach, he remembered to release his held breath.

“Sylvan— Ranger-General, what brings you out here?” He said.

Sylvanas turned away. Her long thin eyebrows drooped into a mask of sorrow that mirrored in her eyes and the downward turn of her lips. She raised a hand to brush the locks of hair behind her ear and spoke with a soft apologetic tone.

“I know what I said outside of the city. But, it was said from a place of concern and worry. I didn’t want to seem too close or familiar to you.” She said.

He pushed off the rail and closed the distance between them. She accepted his presence and offered her hands. He gladly took them and rubbed her knuckles with his thumbs. She felt so soft. She felt so nice.

“But I truly meant what I said. My first love has always been for my country and my people. When I became a ranger, I always knew that I would rather protect the many than to think of myself. I thought…and still think, that a protector couldn’t afford the distraction.”

Johnathan followed her lips as she spoke. It hurt to hear how vulnerable she’s been, especially knowing how much she truly cares for her home. It was admirable and worthy of his respect especially because…

“I feel the same way," Johnathan said. “When I went through school to become a healer, I told myself that romance, hobbies, and other things could…would have to wait.”

“Because of every moment away from your training…” She said.

“…could be better spent preparing to save a life.” He finished.

“Exactly,” she said as she laced her fingers between his.

He stood up on his toes to bring his face closer to hers. She squatted down just enough that he could feel the warmth of her breath. They stood there for what felt like days, gazing and basking in one another’s presence.

They could have remained like that forever, but Johnathan had a question on his mind that refused to remain silent any longer.

“What happens now?”

~~~  
Sylvanas didn’t expect that question. Or rather, she knew full well she should have.

Although Johnathan confessed his feelings first, she was drawn to this stranger ever since she first saw him. He was undeniably different from most of the humans that visited Silvermoon City. He wasn’t some puffed up noble who thought he was greater than himself. He wasn’t some gung-ho soldier who thought a burly chest would impress a fair-maiden. He wasn’t even a diplomat who was trained in honeyed words and insincere promises.

Johnathan was something more, something special.

She squeezed her fingers against Johnathan’s. He returned the gesture and pressed their palms together. Their skin touched and caressed with a soft warm kiss that felt undeniably quaint given the urges that boiled just beneath the surface. As her eyes wandered over the human’s face, she noticed the soft color in his lips and the brush of red across his cheeks.

That was the moment that inspired poets to write sonnets and plays. That was the moment that led to romances that filled the pages of pillow books hidden beneath the pillows of bashful elves in their early hundred years of life. The look that smoldered between her and him was, in simpler terms, the most entrancing enchantment that she had ever seen.

“What happens now?” she said.

He nodded at her. “Yes.”

She smiled and felt a shiver run through her body.

“I don’t know…I have never considered that I would find someone like you. Not until long after I retired from the Ranger’s life. I’m almost afraid that you would ask me to stop and be with you.”

He looked released one of her hands and brought his palm to caress her cheek.

She moaned at the feel of his fingers as it traced her flesh. He was far more gentle than she thought and almost missed it as he ran his nails along her scalp and lost his fingers in her locks. His fingers neared the nape of her neck and she felt the hint of a pull towards him, but fear and propriety kept him polite.

She smiled in appreciation even if some small part of her wished that he wouldn’t have been so.

“I would never ask you to give up Silvermoon City, Quel’Thalas, or this life. I can tell that it means everything to you. That’s why…that’s why I want to join you. I may not be a ranger, I doubt I could ever dance among the trees like you. But…as long as I can help you and be there for you when you hurt. I’ll be satisfied.”

He looked over her shoulder into the dining hall. Sylvanas could hear the laughter and chatter from the room beyond. Sylvanas watched his expression and noticed how downcast his eyes looked.

“What’s wrong?” She said.

He looked into her eyes.

“On the road, when I was standing still thinking. Do you remember that?”

She nodded.

“I wasn’t just thinking about staying in Quel’Thalas.” He said. “I was thinking about how farmers shut their doors and windows as I passed. I was thinking about how strange I must seem and wondered if I could ever fit in in this world.”

It wasn’t an easy confession to hear. She took one look in his eyes and could tell that the thoughts came from deep within. The pained look as he spoke was the same one would have if they had a heavy stone lodged in their stomach; weighty and awkward. She realized how much courage it must have taken to say what he said, especially if he truly was not from Azeroth.

“And now?” Sylvanas said. “How do you feel now?”

He smiled and drew her in until their bodies touched. She made a noise of surprise and rested her palms on his shoulders. She gazed into his eyes and felt her face brighten with a sincerely warm smile.

“I don’t know…” he said, “But I’d like you to help me figure it out.”

She blushed and whispered, “Yes.”

~~~

He couldn’t believe what he had just heard. Even with the laughs they shared, the risks they faced together, and the promise of hard work ahead, he still wasn’t certain that she’d accept him. But thoughts of the loneliness he felt back home pushed him to act.

He couldn’t be satisfied with letting the feelings remain unspoken. Especially since, just hours ago, she’d been ready to send him off on a carriage to escape Quel’Thalas.

So when she said “Yes”, his heartfelt light, warm, and airy. If his chest opened up and his heart flew away with angels wings, he wouldn’t have been surprised, with as much elation as the one word gave him.

He raised his palms and clasped his fingers behind her neck. She grinned as he guided her lower and lower towards his face. She hummed a sing-song sound and rested her palms around the small of his back.

He felt her warm breath against his face and caught the scent of wine and custard from the meal. He tipped his head back so their eyes met. He breathed her name as she pushed him back against the rail overlooking the palace gardens below.

The words they spoke were lost to time, except for repeated variations of “Hold me” and “Kiss me” though Johnathan wasn’t sure who was speaking since they both shared those thoughts.

Her palm caressed his cheek, with long slender fingers sliding up through his hair. He roamed down to the softness of her hip. His touch remained tentatively there until she seized his wrist and moved his caress to places he’d never dare tread on his own. He returned the favor and guided her nails to dip beneath the space between buttons on his tunic.

But these wild curious touches and explorations ceased when at last their lips met.

Time stopped.

Breath was exchanged.

The moisture of a kiss. The sweetness of the moment. The stolen and gifted moans. The touch of her hair spilling over his shoulder. Their noses brushed. Their flesh warmed. Their bodies touched.

Those were the sensations that Johnathan would remember forevermore. Those were the feelings that he’d been craving and never knew he craved. Those were the simple desires and questions that were fulfilled and answered by the simple act of romance.

Sylvanas broke the kiss first, but the feel of her lingered upon his skin. He almost missed the bashful laugh from the elf he called his lady. But he didn’t miss it when she called his name.

“Yes, Sylvanas?” He said.

“I…enjoyed that very much.” She smiled refusing to look at him.

He grinned. “I did too. Oh, how I did as well.”

They stood there on the veranda for minutes more. Just two new-lovers basking in the afterglow of the most innocently intimate act. They were out of breath and out of their minds, but so glad to have given in.

Johnathan laughed and clapped his palms together.

“So…training tomorrow?” He said.

Sylvanas nodded. “Yes, I…ahem need to burn off some energy.”

Johnathan gave her a look. She gave him a stern one in return.

“Oh don’t act so surprised. I’m still a woman.” 

Johnathan and Sylvanas broke into a laugh that could be heard from every corner of the ballroom.


	4. Loss

Two Weeks Later

Johnathan had never worked so hard in his life.

Johnathan had been given housing with a priest of the Light. The elf had a spare room and was more willing to speak in Common so Johnathan didn’t feel quite so lonely without Sylvanas by his side. He rarely spent any time in his quarters, however, as Sylvanas demanded that he be present and ready to train whenever she called.

They spent most evenings together ever since their first kiss. These nights were spent with warm dinners, warmer conversation, explanations of Azeroth and Thalassian, and more than a few kisses. The evenings were pleasant enough that they made up for the hard days he’d spent beneath Sylvanas’ service.

Sylvanas wasn’t a cruel instructor by any stretch, but she was not one to accept slacking or shirking. She was stern, demanding, and unwilling to accept anything less than perfection. He often spent rests and breaks with practically every inch of his body throbbing and sore. Were it not for the healing magics his roommate taught him and the luxurious steam baths scattered around Silvermoon City, it may have been intolerable. Johnathan even had a quiet voice in his mind that asked if it was worth it.

Every time he saw Sylvanas, the answer was a sincere and resounding “Yes.”

Still, he couldn’t focus too much of his time thinking about his newfound love. The past two weeks had seen a rise in tension in the air that spread from the Farstriders to the nobles of Silvermoon City. 

Reports of undead creatures pouring in from the south came more frequently. The City of Tranquillien was on high alert, with its defenders on the near-constant watch for monsters and creatures milling about. Some of the rangers even expressed concern that their families were unsafe, at least when Sylvanas wasn’t close enough to hear.

But that didn’t matter to Johnathan. Today was an archery training day.

Johnathan was busy stringing his bow when he felt a hand clap against his shoulder.

Johnathan turned around and found himself inches away from a woman’s disapproving face. He recognized it as Caidine, another ranger who had been working with Sylvanas that day just weeks ago.

“Do you need something, Caidiine?” Johnathan said in Thalassian.

Sylvanas had taught him the language with phrases and words every night. Johnathan proved to be a quick study, as befitted a man who needed some sure way to communicate with his newfound neighbors, friends, and comrades. He was told he spoke it with an accent, but Johnathan chalked the complaints up to poking fun at the odd man out.

“From you?” Caidine said, “Nothing hardly. After all, why would I ask for anything from the Ranger-General’s pet project.”

Johnathan narrowed his eyes.

This again? he thought.

“Do we have to do this every day? I have worked just as hard as you. I’m…”

“…never going to be a true ranger. Just enjoy what you have while it lasts. You’ll grow old and she’ll leave you behind. Then real rangers can do the real work in keeping Quel’Thalas safe.”

Johnathan stared at the woman. He had no idea why she had so much animosity for him. He couldn’t tell if he had offended her somehow beyond the fact of being an outsider standing among the kingdom’s finest defenders.

“Caidine, I don’t know where this is coming from but…” He said.

She sneered. “I didn’t ask your opinion. Why don’t you go back to this ‘lost boy’ routine and get lost? You’ll never have a place among the…”

An explosion heralded the sounds of screaming from somewhere south of their position. The noise jerked Caidine’s focus away from Johnathan. They both looked down towards the south as the other nearby rangers joined the suit.

One ranger, the one furthest away from Johnathan raised a hand and called out.

“That’s coming from the East Sanctum,” one ranger said.

Johnathan quickly strung his bow and threw it over his shoulder. He moved to race away to investigate when Caidine jerked him back. He snarled at the elf.

“What is it now?” He said.

“Fun’s fun, but this isn’t something for you. Go run to Silvermoon and…”

Johnathan slapped her hand off his shoulder. He grabbed a particular arrow from his quiver that had holes carved along the shaft. He looked away from Caidine and nocked the arrow and aimed towards the sky. He drew back the string and released it.

The arrow shrieked as it soared through the air. A loud signal that could be heard from a considerable distance in all directions.

“Warning’s given. Now let’s save our people.” Johnathan said as he turned to follow the rangers who had already run off to investigate.

Caidine hissed and followed. “Don’t blame me if someone dies today.”

~~~  
Sylvanas struggled to her feet as the green smoke filled the room. A heavy-headedness threatened to overtake her as she forced herself back to her feet. She heard screams coming from somewhere outside along with the clatter of metal and the rattling of bones. As she moved, she called out to Magister Alestheril, the man she’d been speaking to before the glass spheres bombs were tossed into the room.

The explosion that followed threw her towards the further door and created a thick soupy smog that she couldn’t see through. Sylvanas was thankful that the gas didn’t seem to be acidic or poisonous, simply a choking and blinding hazard to force occupants out of the tower.

She shook the throbbing out of her head and searched through the smog. She called out as she rose to her feet.

“MAGISTER! WE HAVE TO GO!”

There was no response.

Sylvanas batted away at the smoke with a free hand, while the other gripped the hilt of one of her blades. She held her breath and forced her way through hoping to reach the window across the room. She could breathe easier there and have the benefit of height to see who their attackers were.

She was halfway across the room when her foot bumped a leg. Sylvanas crouched and grasped for the rest of the leg’s owner only to find the lifeless body of the Magister.

“Dammit…” she cursed as she left him to lie and raced to the window.

There would be time to mourn the loss after she pushed back whoever dared attack her home.

She made it to the window in three steps and one long-held breath. Her face broke through the miasma allowing her one long draught of breath. She scanned the grounds surrounding the tower and saw the tower’s attackers just as they launched arrows towards her.

“Scourge,” she hissed as she ducked behind the railing as arrows flew overhead.

Sylvanas remained in cover and fumbled for one of her warning arrows. She was certain she could fight back down to the grounds, but she had to warn her rangers and the whole of Quel’Thalas that they were under attack. But just as her fingers touched the arrow’s shaft, she heard a sharp whistling sound race towards the sky.

Sylvanas allowed herself a smile.

Seems I have reinforcements, Sylvanas thought. I just hope Johnathan is safe.

The Ranger-General grabbed for a dull headed arrow. It wasn’t the best arrow for long-distance flights, but the weighted head had its advantages. If gravity and the heavy arrowhead didn’t shatter an undead’s skull, then the enchantment it bore would do the trick. She only had to wait.

Thwip Thwip Thwip

Sylvanas held her breath. The gas in front of her billowed towards her, limiting her vision of the room beyond. The archers on the ground facing the window fired arrows to try and flush her out. Her grip tightened and relaxed as she counted down the seconds between volleys. Her lips pursed as she worked through the likeliest plan of attack.

Thwip Thwip Thwip

A hum left Sylvanas’ throat. The undead was, thankfully predictable in their firing patterns. Three volleys of arrows, followed by a long scramble for reloads. That gave her precious seconds to act. She turned around and readied herself to leap over the rail as soon as the volleys passed overhead.

“Johnathan,” she said, “I hope you’re having it easier than I am.”

Thwip Thwip Thwip

Sylvanas shouted as she threw herself from the balcony. The woman soared like a bird of prey silhouetted against the sunlight. Her lithe form cast a shadow over one armored skeleton’s features as the monster noticed her ready her bow and notch a trio of arrows.

“FOR QUEL’THALAS!” Sylvanas shouted as she fired her shots.

Thwip Thwip Thwip

The specialty arrows smashed into the skulls of the skeletal archers. The heavyweight smashed against their helms shattering the sphere in a single shot. The contents of the arrows then ignited in contact with the air sending alchemical acid to swarm over the skeletons, searing through bowstrings and melting them down to ashes.

Sylvanas’ leap sent her to the furthest branch of a nearby tree. She landed with a shaky step as the gas from before still addled her mind. But she caught herself and disappeared into the leaves just as arrows flew in her direction, striking nothing but air.

The Ranger-General clambered down to the ground. She dashed from cover to cover unheard and unnoticed by the undead that raced to catch up to her. the monsters mindlessly searched and hacked at trees, while others raced to return to the work of attacking the tower.

She wondered briefly how they could have made it this far. But such thoughts were pushed out of her present thoughts when she spotted a group of rangers approaching the sanctum from a northern hill, with her beloved Johnathan not far behind.

She should have felt comfort in seeing her loved one so near. But a strange feeling and impulse took hold of her. The sensation chilled her blood and made her feel ill as thoughts of the dead magister forced their way into her thoughts.

Quel’Thalas was in danger and could certainly use his Light Magic for help. But, he was a healer in his world and only trained for weeks rather than years like even the most novice of rangers.

She looked towards the hill, then back to the sanctum. She cursed beneath her breath and raced towards the hill.

I have to get Johnathan out of here!

~~~  
Johnathan struggled to keep up with the rangers. Even with the training he’d received, he still wasn’t used to rushing racing across Eversong’s beautiful but uneven terrain. His field kit, light as it was, was still bulkier and heavier than he’d been used to, and up until that day, he’d never been so close to an active incident.

But rather than let the burning in his lungs slow him down, he focused on the thoughts of helping Sylvanas and her people.

It didn’t matter if she was at the East Sanctum or not. He’d fallen in love with her and he’d defend her people with the same zeal that she showed. It was the least she could offer the woman who’d changed his life so thoroughly in the weeks since they’d met.

But that didn’t shake that even his bolstering magic wasn’t doing enough to keep him from wearing himself out and Caidine knew it.

“Human,” she called out, “It’s not too late! Go back now and…”

Johnathan glared at her and spoke through ragged breaths. “Save it, Ranger! I’m not backing off!”

He grits his teeth and drew his bow. He was close enough to see plumes of green smoke rising over the sanctum, but not so close as to see if anyone was milling about the tower. He couldn’t tell if Scourge was attacking the holding or even if evacuees were fleeing the tower for nearby Fairbreeze Village.

He wanted to ask if one of the rangers could see anything, but his pride couldn’t bear the thought of admitting weakness in front of Caidine.

“When we get there,” Caidine said, “You should stay back and provide support.”

Johnathan ignored the woman. He raced ahead faster, hoping that his spells could help him maintain his faster pace without wearing him down.

The group had finally reached the crest of a hill when Johnathan could see what they were facing. Ghouls, geists, skeletons, and other monsters surrounded the tower. Some tossed grenades in through windows that released thick green plumes of smoke, while others searched the grounds for elves to slay and feast upon. Bodies were already littering the grounds with many bearing faces of abject horror and loss.

The company of Rangers stood on the hill as the sight seemed to stun nearly each of them at once.

Johnathan glanced at one of the ranger’s faces. The male’s expression was wide-eyed, with lips parted in a dumbstruck “o”. His stance, though still ramrod straight, held a listlessness that lasted for all too long a time. Johnathan looked away just as the elf murmured, “I think I see my mother down there.”

The man’s words felt like a kick to Johnathan’s guts. He couldn’t imagine how it felt to lose someone you loved and cared for like this. He’d seen this exact scenario several times in films back home in his world, but the reality was far more grisly than even the most shocking movies could reproduce…and he wasn’t even the one to suffer.

But it was that clarity, that allowed him to speak.

“We can’t stay here,” Johnathan said, “There could still be civilians down there.”

Johnathan was worried that someone would object. After all, how dare he push the rangers into surging down the hill. Wouldn’t they see it as intolerably insensitive?

But rather than the shouts and sneers that he expected, the men and women on that hill snapped out of their shell-shocked daze. The man who spoke about his mother was the first as he grabbed hold of his bow and reached for an arrow. The others took up their preferred weapons as dark glares took over their expressions and lips curled into hateful sneers.

“You’re right,” said one, “We are the Farstriders! The Ranger-General and all of Quel’Thalas is counting on us.”

At once, the men and women cheered then raced down the hill. Arrows flew as dust and dirt erupted from their fevered steps. The monsters had come too close to Silvermoon City and the Sunwell and none would be allowed to survive.

But Johnathan didn’t join them.

He had barely taken two steps before a hand grabbed hold of his collar and jerked him back. He turned around with a blade in hand, expecting an undead to have somehow snuck him. He was surprised when he saw that the hand belonged to Sylvanas. Then he smiled, overjoyed that she was safe and sound.

“My love,” he said, “Thank goodness you’re safe! We weren’t sure if you were near enough to hear my arrow. But come, we can save the sanctum with your help.”

Sylvanas drew her bow and looked down the hill towards the sanctum. Her face was an inscrutable mask with no clear emotion beyond anger at what was happening to their home.

“Sylvanas?” Johnathan said.

The woman looked at Johnathan and he could have sworn that her eyes looked sad as she spoke.

“Johnathan, I need you to go back to Silvermoon. Warn everyone about what you’ve seen. Help the magisters protect our people.”

Johnathan staggered. He placed a palm over his aching heart. The words were like a dagger shoved between his ribs, especially in light of what Caidine had said no more than ten minutes before.

“I’m sorry…” he said, “isn’t that what the signal arrows are for? You’ve trained me to help fight. My magic can burn these creatures better than your arrows.”

Sylvanas nodded. “I know, my dearest. And that’s why you must go back. If we fail to stop them, they’ll be rushing for the gates to tear it down. The Sunwell, the High King, and countless civilians will be at risk. Your magic can heal those we send back and protect those that need help. It just doesn’t make sense to keep you here, when they are the ones that need your power.”

Johnathan frowned and raised a finger to retort, but Sylvanas had already raced away down the hill. Her point was made and he was supposed to just accept it. He stood there for a single breath and already she had disappeared into the trees, with the only sign of her passing coming from the thwips of arrows in flight and the bursting of the undead.

Johnathan wanted to disobey her and come to her aid. He wanted to lend a hand to the people he now called his own. He wanted to fight and defend and prove himself to her.

But, he knew that he simply shouldn’t.

Her reasoning was flawless. His roommate had explained how much faith Light magic required to function, let alone with the strength and power that he had wielded. It wasn’t just something you could study and master with practice, it required honest belief in a cause or one’s self.

If there was anything that Johnathan believed in above all else, it was that Sylvanas would return to his side…and that he wasn’t being left out.

~~~

Hours Later

It became clear that the Lich King intended on pushing through to the Sunwell. She didn’t know what he sought, but if the leader of the Scourge infected the holy font of magic, then her people would face untold calamity. She, her rangers, and others who joined the fight darted in and out of the trees and woodlands to fend off the unstoppable army. But even their best efforts seemed ineffectual at best.

Sylvanas and her rangers were moving near non-stop for the better part of the afternoon. The Scourge threat was far more potent than any of them could have guessed. The raids weren’t the wild actions of monsters taking advantage of a people that had just fended off Horde aggression. It was a full-fledged invasion by the fallen King of Lordaeron.

The High Elves knew, of course, about his corruption, but none suspected that he would have turned his blades upon Quel’Thalas. Every moment, he inched his way closer to the legendary city and her hope of success fell further and further away.

The once-king seemed to outplay her best strategies when he didn’t simply overwhelm her people with massive waves of grotesque monsters. She even saw the bastard use his cursed runed-blade to raise some of the elves into servants to throw against their former family. As they neared the palace, Sylvanas was forced into the open in a desperate fight to slay the Lich King before he could destroy The Sunwell or harm her beloved Johnathan.

But he was a power she couldn’t match. His will was stronger than hers. His blade and armor were impossible to defeat.

It left Sylvanas crumpled in a heap mere inches away from the Lich King and too far away from even a knife to defend herself.

Every inch of her body hurt. Her skin was crisscrossed with blood as wounds from the endless fight mounted. Her vision wavered as exhaustion and blood loss threatened her consciousness. It was all she could do to follow his approach with shaking tired eyes.

The king of monsters spoke to her, though she couldn’t recall what the words were. She could tell he was offended and angry at her defiance calling her the chief annoyance that delayed his advance. She smiled and spat at his feet. He laughed beneath that aura of cold and sickness that surrounded him, then waved his runeblade over her body.

She clasped a hand over her chest and screamed at the pain as Frostmourne emanated strange inexorable energy that lashed through her body and clawed at something inside. She felt her soul torn from her along with her memories and individuality. 

She knew that the bastard intended to shape her into one of his more powerful servants as both punishment and mockery of her fight. Whatever power seized control over her sought to subsume everything within her. But Sylvanas couldn’t bear the thought of losing everything. So she focused on the things that mattered most:

Johnathan and My People

Then, the darkness came.


	5. Hope

Years Later

Ever since he learned that Sylvanas fell in battle, Johnathan spent his days silent and in misery. The thought that his newly beloved lady was naught but ash plagued his mind and made his heart heavy and cold. Some nights he’d stare up in the sky and wonder if he’d be better served by leaving Quel’Thalas forevermore.

But he still remembered the oaths he swore when he became a Farstrider healer in training. He swore to uphold the honor of the High Elves and to defend its people from all threats until his last days. But that didn’t stop him from hurting nightly as he wondered if things could have been different.

He knew that Sylvanas was right.

He wasn’t ready to face up against the Scourge. He’d have likely fallen early in the attacks and there was no way he’d have stopped the Lich King. But knowing that that was true didn’t stop his heart from hearting, especially with how deeply that ugly evening seared itself into his mind’s eye.

Thank goodness, Johnathan thought, for the friends who urged me to live.

He found himself walking familiar trails that no longer shined with the light of brighter mornings. The guardsmen and travelers he passed all had grim faces with sour eyes that glared. Some of their eyes were even green as they were forced to find a new source of power to feed their hunger. But Johnathan didn’t care.

Not today.

Today was the anniversary of Sylvanas’ death.

He was dressed in his Ranger’s armor of green, gray, and brown. He had a bow slung over his shoulder and quiver full of arrows. He gingerly held onto a bouquet of Peaceblooms, neatly arranged to form the symbol of the Windrunner family. The sword at his side was smithed last month by an apprentice with the brand new order of Blood Knights. His boots were neatly polished and his bearing matched that of the most grim-faced survivor of that terrible invasion.

Visiting Sylvanas’ grave deserved nothing less.

Eventually, Johnathan’s travels took him to a single statue of gold-colored stone that was half sunk into the mud and listing at an unusual angle. The statue was of a huntress with a bow and fierce look in her expression. While it wasn’t a statue of Sylvanas, it was close enough to the image he had of her.

Since no survivors witnessed Sylvanas’ death, Johnathan had taken to acting as if that statue was her gravestone. It’s a location along The Dead Scar also made it an ideal location for reflection, as no one in their right mind would ever kneel in the blighted dirt to offer flowers and remembrance.

Johnathan fell to his knees and bowed his head before the statue. He set the bouquet down in the dirt then clapped his hands together. He raised his hands to a praying pose and wreathed himself in a bubble of light, to protect him from any Scourge that may have been wandering close.

Finally, he looked up and spoke, as much to Sylvanas as to himself.

“I know I tell you this every year. But I’m sorry, Sylvanas. If I was somehow stronger or more capable, then I might have saved you from the Lich King. I might have been able to fight the Scourge and keep them away from Silvermoon.”

Johnathan placed his palms into the dirt. He closed his fingers and dug up the soil beneath his touch. The ground was wet, cold, and gave his skin a clammy burning sensation.

“I know it doesn’t matter anymore. But I love you…and will always love you.”

Johnathan sighed and pressed his palm over his heart. The tainted dirt dirtied his armor leaving behind a small smear. It was a taint and blemish that would mar the look of his armor. He lifted his hand and stared at the stains on breastplate and palm. The marks would be easy enough to wash away, unlike the pang of loss he felt in his heart.

“So this is where you run off to every year.”

Johnathan sighed. He recognized Caidine’s voice in an instance.

“What do you want?” He said.

“Is that any way to address an officer?” She said.

Caidine stepped out of hiding and into view. She wore armor similar to Johnathan’s except for certain trims that marked her as having advanced in rank. There was a question whether Caidine had truly earned the position, but with so much of Silvermoon’s population lost those years ago, no one raised more than a token complaint.

This meant that she was Johnathan’s superior. A fact that she surprisingly kept to herself.

“I followed you here. Everyone wonders where you wander to every year. Most believe that it was to mourn, but some thought you may have been reporting to the nearby trolls. Out of grief and anger.”

Johnathan sighed. He wasn’t surprised. Ever since the attacks, he’d been more of a pariah than ever before. Being a human made him an easy target for glares and behind-doors chatter. Being a human who didn’t speak too often made it worse.

“Then now that you’ve discovered my innocence. Please leave me to my mourning.” He said.

She shook her head.

“It’s not quite that simple.” She said.

Johnathan stared at her.

“I always knew you were innocent. Though I did agree to tail you. I just hoped to catch you alone so I could speak with you.” 

She waited for Johnathan to speak. When he said nothing, she sighed and motioned to the statue.

“I’ll confess…back then, before the invasion. I was angry with you. Sylvanas had feelings for you and everyone knew…but some like I, were jealous.” 

Johnathan’s eyes widened in surprise. How didn’t he figure it out sooner?

“I want to apologize. I know that’s small comfort given you lived with my anger for years, but to an elf that’s a small fraction of time.”

“If I forgive you, will you go away?” Johnathan asked.

He didn’t want her to ruin the meaning of the pilgrimage. He didn’t want to have to find a new spot along the Dead Scar to honor his love’s passing.

“Well, I will. But I wanted to tell you something about Sylvanas.” She said.

“Don’t speak her name. Not here. Not today.” He said.

She stepped forward. “No, listen. I’ve learned something that I shouldn’t have. Remember how we all ‘knew’ that Sylvanas died in that final battle and her body was burned. It turns out that wasn’t true.”

Johnathan blinked. His bubble shield lowered leaving him feeling exposed. He reached for Caidine’s shoulders and squeezed.

“What do you mean? Explain, now!” He said.

She looked to the south.

“I overheard the Regent Lord speaking with a scout. The scout ventured south beyond the Ghostlands and discovered a settlement. The settlement had a lone figure who spoke of Sylvanas. She was taken and turned into a monster, but she’s free now and took over Lordaeron as her own.”

Johnathan couldn’t detect any falsehoods from the woman. Her tone remained steady and she spoke in the most strict of confidences. She wanted to tell him about Sylvanas.

“But how do I get there?” He said. “Patrols are guarding nearly the entire border. I sometimes join those patrols. Not to mention The Scourge to the lands in the south.”

She smiled. “Good thing I thought of that.”

She reached into her packs and withdrew a small glowing blue vial. The cork was a dark red color and the liquid inside looked thick and syrupy even from the distance between them.

“I brewed up an invisibility potion. It will allow you to slip past the patrols. You’re on your own after that, but I trust your magic can protect you from the undead.”

She offered the vial to him. He reached and hovered his hand over it. He looked up and searched her eyes for dishonesty.

Her eyes looked moist as if on the cusp of tears. Her lips were set in a thin line that never wavered or angled into a smirk. There seemed to be no signs of dishonesty which forced him to ask:

“Why would you help me?” Johnathan said.

Caidine turned away towards the south.

“Because if she’s alive. She needs you more than anything else. Halduron may call you a deserter though, so if you leave, make sure that you do everything you can for her.”

Johnathan nodded and grabbed the vial. He stowed it in his pocket. He rose to his feet then looked back towards Silvermoon City..or what remained of it.

“Very well, then I have to pack. Thank you Caidine.”

“You can thank me by finding her.”

~~~  
Slipping past the patrol was easy enough with the invisibility potion. It helped that he knew how to pass without a trace of his passing thanks to the training he’d acquired from his time with the Farstriders. But once he left the relative safety of the Ghostlands, all that was left was the massive sickness that was the Plaguelands.

Johnathan had only heard about these lands. He’d never set foot upon them and only saw what he could see from the edges of his patrol routes. All he knew was that the sky was orange with the acrid stench of something and that food safe to eat was scarcer than diamonds. The animals were as fierce as the ghouls and zombies that still roamed from crypt to crypt in search of their next victim.

But he wouldn’t let that stop him.

For days he wandered on directions acquired from maps glimpsed during his service to Silvermoon. Always south and to the west. Then further west veering south. When he slept, he curled up into the cover of overgrown roots or in the tight crevices behind stones, where rotted eyes wouldn’t see him.

It was on the seventh day that he finally saw an end to his travels through the gloom. An exit from the Plaguelands and lands that were, shockingly enough, actually green, albeit blanketed with an omnipresent gloom. But for a man who survived on dry rations and sips from canteens, any escape from the Plaguelands was a welcome one.

He dashed into this new land and thought back to those maps he’d peeked at.

If I”m right, he thought, then I must have reached Tirisfal Glades and that means Lordaeron is not very far away.

His journey’s end filled his body with warmth and courage. It lent might to limbs that felt heavy from his time in the Plaguelands. It offered him the hope of finally returning to his beloved’s side.

With fervor and haste born of love and need, Johnathan raced across the old grounds of Tirisfal Glades. He soon came across a winding cobblestone path and could barely see a large castle in the distance. Though the parapets and towers looked crumbled and broken, it was undeniably Lordaeron’s capital and the home that his love and life had taken up residence.

His feet moved faster. He breathed in and out with spurts of breath. Unlike years ago, his lungs didn’t fail him as he had become a harder man. A stronger man.

The path split, with one branch veering directly towards the capital. Johnathan ignored the other and raced as fast as he could.

Soon, he thought, Soon I’ll be back at my lover’s side.

Then he noticed two men with dark soot-colored armor and terrible slouches standing by the road. Each bore a tabard of dark blue with a cracked mask face upon it. They seemed armed and dangerous and had eyes that glowed with pale gold. They were too short to be elves, but perhaps they were blessed by Sylvanas in some sort of way.

“FRIENDS,” Johnathan said, “I come to see Sylvanas! Please let me through.”

The men stared at him. They glanced at one another. Then they laughed and drew their swords.

Johnathan stepped back and reached for his blade.

“Did you hear me?” he said to the men, “I am here to speak with Sylvanas. Is she here?”

One of the men spoke.

“The Dark Lady is not seeing visitors. Let alone humans. Why don’t you return to your friends in the monastery, unless you want your head to remain here.” Said one of the men.

Johnathan’s eyes darted from face to face. He noticed details he initially missed as his focus turned from Sylvanas to these men.

They moved an evolution of the zombies that attacked Quel’Thalas with backs bent cruelly forward and motions that seemed to jerk from motion to motion. He could hear the grinding of bones with every gesture and their voices had a raspy quality that sounded like a man choking on a frog. Also, they mentioned a ‘Dark Lady’. Was that Sylvanas?

Johnathan pushed the questions to the side. He kept his hand hovered over the hilt of his sword and narrowed his eyes.

“She will want to see me. Please let me pass. I bring news from Quel’Thalas.” He said.

The speaking guard shook his head.

“It seems that the time for talk is over.”

Both men advanced on Johnathan. They moved to his sides to attempt a flank, but Johnathan was more than familiar with combat under such conditions.

He raced forward towards the great city forcing them to pursue him. The men shouted at him and gave chase as he neared the rusted wrought-iron portcullis. A glance over his shoulder confirmed his theory that the men were not equals in running.

He turned and drew his blade. The faster guard lunged a deadly thrust, but Johnathan sidestepped and swatted the man away with the flat of his sword. The force of his swing combined with the enhancement of Light magic, pushed him into the moat which he only then noticed was filled with green sludge rather than water.

Johnathan turned and fled towards the palace while the one guard leaned in to pull his friend out of the muck.

Johnathan raced across a courtyard with dying grass and broken statues. The air had a faint hint of the stink that radiated from the land itself. The sky was darkened by both an oppressive mood and dark clouds that chose that moment to lash Johnathan’s neck and head with chilling raindrops.

He raised an arm to block the rain from his eyes and pushed forward past two large stone doors that seemed to have been torn off their hinges long ago.

But entry didn’t spare him from the rain as the ceiling had partially collapsed leaving large holes for rain to find him.

Johnathan pushed on. He had no idea where he was or how to find his beloved. So all he could do was follow his instincts. He heard a sharp cry and whistle over the howl of the winds. An alarm was raised and he was the intruder. The whole of Lordaeron would be after him now.

Johnathan found himself in a room with a lone stone sarcophagus dominating its center. The room led to several paths. He chose one at random and raced down a short narrow tunnel that led to a door. He had barely noticed that the door lacked knobs, hinges, or handles when it slid upwards into the ceiling.

On the other side of that door was a large creature of gray fleshy bits with multiple arms that were sewn into its blubbery shape from seemingly impossible angles. It drooled at Johnathan and threw a punch far faster than should have been possible.

Johnathan didn’t have time to raise a shield. He caught the blow to the chin and was thrown back. He landed against a wall and felt the darkness take him.


	6. Reunion

Later that evening

Sylvanas didn’t want to deal with prisoners that day.

Much of her time of late was spent securing the future of her people. The Forsaken were a people alone on their continent, forced to fight a war on several fronts. Though the Horde was true enough to their word and lent soldiers to defend their territories, the disgust and perverse interest were obvious whenever she met them.

Undead like herself was simply a fascination to be admired from afar or a vile dog meant to be aimed in the proper direction and let loose.

But one day, she’d force Azeroth to accept the Undead as a people worthy of the same rights as the people of Lordaeron or Quel’Thalas.

But her strategies and schemes towards that end were constantly delayed with the wave of scarlet soldiers that had been captured and brought to the Undercity dungeon.

Still, she thought, at least it would pass the time.

Sylvanas’ lips curled into a frown. That small voice in her mind that wanted her to embrace cruelty was not her own. It was the voice of a woman who was violated by the Lich King. It was the voice of one who was angry and spiteful towards a world that took her away from her beloved Johnathan.

But she could feel herself slipping towards those extremes each day as the hole in her heart seemed to grow wider.

But today wasn’t the day to think about her departed beloved. Today was the day to think of what she could do for the Undercity.

She stopped in front of the tunnel that led to the jail cells where the Scarlets were taken for questioning. It was the darkest and mustiest of those held within the great city beneath what was Lordaeron. It was also the one most closely watched by the guards, as many of the Scarlets contained that cursed Light magic.

She paused at the door and waited as Dreadguards opened it for her. As the door yawned with a metallic whine, she turned towards the nearest abomination.

“The Prisoner. Where is it?” She said.

The Abomination held up three fingers, then formed a C with its hand.

“Cell 3-C. Good.”

Sylvanas entered the tunnel. Dreadguards filed in behind her each taking up a protective position around their Dark Lady. The woman’s steps were silent as her long leather boots stepped down on ancient stones that were ruined with small patches of moss and mold. The air down there was thick with dust and had a thick warmth surrounding it, almost as if the tunnels were being cooked.

She snatched a torch from a sconce just as she reached the bottommost steps.

The entourage walked down the clearly labeled halls. Many of the cells were empty, though Sylvanas could see the shadowed shapes of figures crouched in the corners of the rooms. She ignored each as she passed from Hall 1 to Hall 3 and searched for the third cell.

She peered through the bars. The figure inside was wrapped up in a blanket of dark brown burlap. It was male human judging by his shape and build. His back was turned towards Sylvanas, but there was something familiar about him. Sylvanas narrowed her eyes and noticed a boot sticking out from beneath the blanket that was designed in the elven style of Quel’Thalas.

Her heartbeat is strong and true.

It couldn’t be!

“Prisoner, wake up. I wish to speak with you.” She said.

The prisoner groaned and grumbled as he woke up. He reached a hand to run through his hair. The arm was strong and muscular with definition and toning that could only come from years of hard labor. He was wearing armor from Quel’Thalas that marked him as one of the Farstriders.

Then he turned and looked into Sylvanas’ eyes.

“Johnathan?” she said.

Johnathan looked into her eyes and smiled.

Sylvanas turned towards her guard.

“Unlock the door, then leave me! I wish to speak with this one alone.”

One of the guards, a woman with a noticeable limp spoke up.

“Is that wise, my Lady. What if this one is a paladin. We should—”

Sylvanas sneered and stood her full height. She towered over the guardswoman and glared down into her face. Shadows emanated from her body as the Banshee within forced itself to the surface. She was beautiful and horrible in one single visage.

“I gave my orders! Leave me! I will call when I’m ready!” Sylvanas said.

The guardswoman shrank beneath Sylvanas’ gaze.

“Yes, my Lady. Come Dreadguard, we leave!”

The woman unlocked the door then handed Sylvanas the key. She took it in hand and watched the Dreadguard leave the room back the way they came.

When she was sure that they had left a convenient earshot, she threw open the doo cell door. She was at Johnathan’s side in an instant and fell to her knees so they could embrace once again for the first time.

The once-elf rubbed her cheek against Johnathan’s head and sighed.

“I cannot believe that you’re alive. I thought that you fell during the attacks. My scouts could never push through to Quel’Thalas.” She said.

Johnathan raised his harms beneath hers. His palms pressed down upon her shoulders. He held her closer so their chests crushed together. The cool softness of her undead breasts, the hard heat of his living chest. Their bodies fit together snuggly into a pure embrace.

It was as if a missing puzzle piece had been found and it fit just as neatly as it should.

Johnathan raised his head and gazed into her eyes. She found herself lost in those smoldering pools and felt enthralled. And judging by the way he smiled, so bright and wide that it hurt, the feeling was mutual.

“My love,” he said, “I would have come sooner. But Quel’Thalas was told that you died that day and your body had to be burned. I only heard that you were alive, just this past week. I left to find you.”

Sylvanas felt her heartbeat. It colored her cheeks with a dark red color that gave her skin a brief and lovely shade of purple.

“But why? You could have found a way to return home.

“My home is no longer New York. My home is Azeroth, with you.”

“You could have been happy or found another. Besides, I am no longer the woman you once knew.”

He shook his head. “I don’t agree. I can tell that things are hard. Everyone speaks of the undead in fearful tones and some of the guards mentioned that you are on constant assault. But you remain here, tirelessly to defend them. They love and worship you just as Quel’Thalas honored and revered you. The Sylvanas I know puts her people before herself and you haven’t changed my mind yet.”

Sylvanas bit her lip.

“But my love,” she said, “I have done terrible things to protect my people. I don’t think I—”

Johnathan shook her out of her mood. He rubbed her back which drew a purr from her lips.

“You’re wrong. You act to protect. I don’t know the full extent of what you’ve done, but you were taken away. You still have a place within the world. You still have a place within my heart. I love you.”

Sylvanas’ body shook at his words. Though they often said those important words to one another, this felt more powerful than any spell he could have cast. 

“I love you too. But, how do I repair what I have done? How do I find acceptance for my people when everyone loathes us?”

Johnathan smiled.

“We start by going home to Quel’Thalas and rekindle your friendship with them. After that, it’s step by step and day by day.”

Sylvanas parted her lips. She wanted to tell him no. She wanted to raise a dispute. She wanted to say how and why it was an impossible dream. But she craved him and needed him. And if he said it was possible. If he thought that they could make it work, then she had to try.

She had to try.

She had to try.

“Johnathan, I love you so very much. You saved me this time. I’m certain of it.”

Sylvanas grasped the back of his neck and pulled him into a kiss. 

Their lips caressed in ways that brought back all the happy memories that they shared. Hands holding beneath an Eversong Wood rainfall. Laughter over jokes that only they would know. And the intimacy of evenings beneath bedsheets of silk. His presence was a fine wine and divine favor all condensed in that single moment of touch, where the lovers reunited in a cold damp cell.

Johnathan moaned. Sylvanas leaned back pulling her lover on top. The blanket was cast aside. Hands fumbled for buttons, ties, and clips. Armor and clothing joined the blanket forming a pile of a shared past and creating a united future.

They accepted one another


	7. Epilogue

Years passed since that day and Johnathan never left Sylvanas’ side. He was her champion. He was her lover. Most importantly, he was her conscience.

The dark feelings that her undead nature-inspired were muted if not snuffed by Johnathan’s influence. She ruled over Lordaeron and Undercity with wisdom and kindness tempered by a fierce determination to protect her people.

Though Quel’Thalas was no longer her home, it was a lovely place to visit. The new Regent-Lord trusted Sylvanas to do right by their newfound alliance, especially with Johnathan named as Quel’Thalas’ envoy for all things between their nations.

Though the Alliance never accepted Sylvanas and launched constant assaults upon her kingdom. It was more than clear that Sylvanas and Johnathan would not stoop the levels of the Scourge nor fail to protect their people.

Eventually, a new need fell upon the couple, which led to a marriage that had a turnout seen by none other in all the Horde. Leaders and heroes from nearly every race; elves, trolls, orcs, tauren, and even goblins came to watch.

Sylvanas still remembers the outfits they wore. His tuxedo was a dark blue with a careful cut that accentuated his broader frame. Her dress was white and pure like a fresh snowfall, and designed to fall upon her like velvet. They each wore half of a mask upon their face marking them as the Lord and Lady of the Forsaken.

The masks never left their faces until they kissed for the first time as husband and wife.

**Author's Note:**

> This series was a commission for a wonderful Twitter pal!


End file.
